“H–o—oooooo—pe! Where are you?”
I called as I looked in my desk drawer, under the manuscript sitting on my desk, between the books I’m studying to teach in a few weeks.
“Hope. Are you in there?”
As I looked in the kitchen sink, among the laundry around my recliner.
I see a lot of work. A lot of signs of life in these places, but no hope.
“Hope? Where have you gone?”
I said as I booted up my computer and searched the Internet. Maybe I should just stop looking for her. I’m so tired and have been working so unbelievably hard this summer.
My shoulders sagged as I went to preplanning and worked through my days. She wasn’t here either. Hope must be gone.
The bell rang and students filed into my room for the first day, looking me in the eye with eager anticipation. It was then that I saw her reflection in the pupils. The eyes of my students reflected her so that I was almost blinded like a spotlight cutting into midnight stargazing.
“Ahhhh. There you are, my friend, Hope. It is nice to find you again. I thought I’d lost you.”
Commentary on Losing “Hope”
In the summer and as we work, we get rest but sometimes amidst all of the work, we as teachers feel something is missing. That spark of excitement– something is just not there.
It is truly because we miss our students. Somehow the process of teaching and interacting with the minds of the Beautiful Generation is addictive to the point that I find myself feeling almost hopeless.Upset somehow.
And Finding Hope
But I know that once they enter my room. Once it starts again that everything will be back in place.
THEY are back.
All of the frustration, upsetness and yes, energy, vitality, greatness, and wonder of a generation of students who have captured my heart and imagination will be back in my life full force.
In some ways, I need a break from them and yet, I miss them terribly.
These upset feelings always end my summer like an exclamation point but I’ve found that in many ways I am upset from giving up days that are not governed by a bell but also nervous energy from starting another school year.
My list is huge, my mind is nervous, but I think that very soon, my heart will be ready.
Such mixed up thoughts that govern the teacher’s heart. Such is the nobility of a profession that is oft misunderstood but truly noble in calling.
Remember your noble calling, Teacher!
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